[ she almost says a what, because luke is doing that thing again where he switches languages, and it's simultaneously annoying and kind of hot at the same time — the latter of which she would like to keep as far away from describing luke as possible, despite the fact that she's been consciously aware of the fact that he is, in fact, strikingly attractive on more than one occasion (one in particular she'd like to erase from ever actually happening, because it's probably the most embarrassing thing she's ever done in the history of her life, and that includes taking off her t-shirt at the swimming pool when she was six because she wanted to be like one of the boys). ]
[ she can only assumes he translates himself, but it doesn't particularly clear any of clarisse's suspicions, nor does the tightness in her chest loosen. this calliope might be a pain in luke's ass, but it's clearly different from the way clarisse has been a pain in the ass. she wouldn't expect him to ever sound fond of her, not anymore. their time for fondness has long since passed; they grew up, and this is what they became. this is what they have to work with — or, at least, this is what clarisse has to work with, since she ruined the one opportunity they had to start over. ]
[ there's a retort on the tip of her tongue, something witty she could say about whoever he's meeting, but it evaporates before she has a chance to say anything, taken off guard by the fact that she actually understands the next words out of luke's mouth. her mother taught her some french when she was little, and she practiced some with silena; she's not anywhere near fluent, but she understands more than she speaks, anyway, and luke is obviously distracted by whatever is happening on his end of the line that she might as well just get a move on and try not to think about the other things she's heard luke say in french that weren't nearly as tasteful. ]
[ it doesn't take her long to get to the training grounds; she even takes a shortcut to save on time, because this is supposed to be sort of urgent, despite the fact that luke is off running around visiting some other girl before he decides to show up. but it's not like clarisse really cares (or, at least, that's what she'd like to tell herself), because it shouldn't really matter as long as he actually shows up. she wouldn't put it past him to stand her up, because, she'll be honest, she deserves a lot worse than that for all the shit she's put him through. but this is them on supposedly even ground, agreeing to at least call it square. a truce wouldn't be much of a truce if they kept trying to get back at each other. ]
[ she half expects luke to already be at the training grounds when she gets there, but for once she actually beats him at the punctuality game. it's a little awkward just standing around shifting her weight every now and again, pacing the field and occasionally taking out the pen that won't ever leave her pocket and twirling it idly in her fingers. she doesn't know what she's supposed to do with it; it's not like she can actually use it as a pen — but it wouldn't feel right using it as a sword. it's still percy's, not hers, and even if it chose her, for whatever reason, she's pretty sure it made a mistake. ]
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[ she can only assumes he translates himself, but it doesn't particularly clear any of clarisse's suspicions, nor does the tightness in her chest loosen. this calliope might be a pain in luke's ass, but it's clearly different from the way clarisse has been a pain in the ass. she wouldn't expect him to ever sound fond of her, not anymore. their time for fondness has long since passed; they grew up, and this is what they became. this is what they have to work with — or, at least, this is what clarisse has to work with, since she ruined the one opportunity they had to start over. ]
[ there's a retort on the tip of her tongue, something witty she could say about whoever he's meeting, but it evaporates before she has a chance to say anything, taken off guard by the fact that she actually understands the next words out of luke's mouth. her mother taught her some french when she was little, and she practiced some with silena; she's not anywhere near fluent, but she understands more than she speaks, anyway, and luke is obviously distracted by whatever is happening on his end of the line that she might as well just get a move on and try not to think about the other things she's heard luke say in french that weren't nearly as tasteful. ]
[ it doesn't take her long to get to the training grounds; she even takes a shortcut to save on time, because this is supposed to be sort of urgent, despite the fact that luke is off running around visiting some other girl before he decides to show up. but it's not like clarisse really cares (or, at least, that's what she'd like to tell herself), because it shouldn't really matter as long as he actually shows up. she wouldn't put it past him to stand her up, because, she'll be honest, she deserves a lot worse than that for all the shit she's put him through. but this is them on supposedly even ground, agreeing to at least call it square. a truce wouldn't be much of a truce if they kept trying to get back at each other. ]
[ she half expects luke to already be at the training grounds when she gets there, but for once she actually beats him at the punctuality game. it's a little awkward just standing around shifting her weight every now and again, pacing the field and occasionally taking out the pen that won't ever leave her pocket and twirling it idly in her fingers. she doesn't know what she's supposed to do with it; it's not like she can actually use it as a pen — but it wouldn't feel right using it as a sword. it's still percy's, not hers, and even if it chose her, for whatever reason, she's pretty sure it made a mistake. ]